


Dec 12

by dizzy



Series: Crisscolfer Advent 2015 [12]
Category: Glee RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-13
Updated: 2015-12-13
Packaged: 2018-05-06 10:32:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5413514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dizzy/pseuds/dizzy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Strangers stranded in a random airport on <strike>Valentine's Day</strike> Christmas. Darren's serenading people with his guitar and Chris just wants to get home to Brian and Cooper.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dec 12

Darren's lived through a lot of snowstorms in Michigan. His mind is full of college memories, tinged with warmth and nostalgia. 

He's not in Michigan right now. He's in Chicago, and the airport seems too big and too cold and he's sad to be leaving and sadder still not to be home yet. 

He's sad but it's Christmas and he likes to bring a smile to people's faces when he can, so he pulls out his guitar and starts to play. 

* 

It'll get around, and Darren knows it. Darren Criss, Grammy award winning musician, putting on an impromptu concert in the middle of O'Hara. People are recording him on their phones and cameras. He doesn't care. There are maybe fifty people stuck in this little terminal and it's not like anyone could rush him right now. 

No one outside the airport is getting in right now, and no one already in is going anywhere else any time soon. 

So he sits with his guitar and he strums a little. He starts in on Christmas songs and he gets everyone willing to join in to lend their voices, turning it into a sing along. 

* 

The coffee shop starts bringing out trays of hot chocolate and coffee. Staff on hand have thin scratchy blankets they're handing out. There are sandwiches and potato chips and fruit and generally a sense of caring and consideration that comes along so very rarely, particularly in high tension situations like this. It feels like a minor miracle that no one has lost their temper out of frustration over not being able to get home. 

Later, people will credit Darren for this. Darren won't be allowed to say it wasn't really him at all because it'll make good press and he'll be expected to just grin his sheepish grin and take it. 

*

Darren's been playing for almost two hours. He needs a break, so he begs off and says he'll be back soon. He grabs his overnight bag and straps his guitar to his back and walks toward the VIP lounge, where he gets slightly better food and a slightly better blanket. 

There are only about a dozen people with him, mostly business people if the clothes are anything to go by. The only one out of place is a guy in jeans and a t-shirt. He's cute, with laptop in front of him and headphones in. 

Darren thinks about going over to say hi, but a nap sounds nicer. 

* 

When he wakes up again the guy is still there. His headphones are out and his laptop is closed but still resting against his thighs. He has his head tilted back and he's staring at the ceiling. 

"Hey," Darren says. They're sitting close enough that the guy hears him and clearly knows Darren is talking to him. His head jerks over liked he's startled, and Darren wonders what kind of daydream he was just awoken from. 

"Hi," the guy says. 

"I'm Darren." 

"I know who you are. You're famous." The man says. "About five people came in here to say you were playing outside if I was sure I wanted to stay in here and miss all the action." 

"Better things to do?" Darren asks, grinning. His ego can handle the hit. 

"Just wanted to be alone," he says. Then after a pause he adds, "I'm Chris." 

"Nice to meet you, Chris." 

* 

Chris is on his way back to Los Angeles, too. 

He's upset because he thinks his cat and his dog will somehow know he's late. His best friend is pissed at him because she told him to take an earlier flight but he wanted the chance to have lunch at his favorite Chicago restaurant first. 

Chris is in Chicago for a meeting with a potential star for his next book-to-movie adaptation. He's picking unknowns, plucking them from little theater communities across the country. He wants a different vibe for this movie, he says. 

Somehow Darren actually believes him, too. That's funny, since Darren doesn't believe much of what anyone in the entertainment industry says anymore. 

* 

Darren thinks about going out to play for the crowd again, but he's enjoying his conversation with Chris and the fact that this is a performance that's actually his choice to deliver or not. 

He wants to make the people out there happy, but sitting in here is making him happy. He's having an actual conversation with an actual person who isn't foaming at the mouth with adoration or looking at him like he's got dollar signs where his mouth should be. 

Chris is just... talking to him. It's heady, almost addictive. Darren moves to sit closer. Chris's computer and phone are all but forgotten. 

Chris is intelligent, attractive, single, and gay. In another lifetime, Darren might have fallen in love in the space of a night. But that is not the kind of world he lives in anymore. 

Around two in the morning they end up fucking in a lockable family-style bathroom. He grips the ceramic sink with white-knuckled hands and stares at their reflection in the mirror, finding rapture at the sight of Chris's face twisted in pleasure behind him. 

Afterward Chris slips out first, leaving Darren to clean up with a little bit of dignity. 

*

Darren takes his guitar and plays a few more songs for the people still awake. His ass twinges with soreness as he sits on the long bench seat. Music is his catharsis, but so is pretending. Fake it 'til you make it, smile 'til you're really happy. (One day he'll feel like it actually works.)

*

He's not expecting Chris to come find him. He's definitely not expecting Chris to take a seat right down near the front and watch with his arms wrapped around his knees and his chin resting on them. 

He sings until his voice is a little raw and then puts the guitar down. A few people want to talk but he can't tune out Chris's eyes on him, so he keeps it short and begs off with sleepiness. 

"Hey," he says, turning back over. 

Chris looks curious and concerned. "I thought you'd come back to the lounge." 

"Oh," Darren says. "Figured that was kind of like... coming back home after a one night stand." 

Chris frowns. "I thought. Oh. Never mind." He stands abruptly. 

Darren grabs his arm. "No, wait. I mean... offer still open?" 

"You have as much access to the lounge as I do," Chris says. Darren can't blame him for being a little cagey right now. 

"Yeah, but I don't know how much I just stuck my foot in my mouth." He figures honesty is the best policy here. 

Chris's expression softens. "You didn't. Much." He holds a hand out. 

Darren takes it. 

* 

The snow stops in time for mid-morning flights to resume. 

Chris and Darren have a morning after feast of muffins and coffee. They're sleepy but drawing it out. Darren, at least, could have been on the first flight out if he really wanted. 

He just... didn't want. 

He has no idea what will happen once they're on the plane, once they're back in Los Angeles. But it's Christmas Eve and the skies are clearing up and maybe there's a reason to hope, after all.


End file.
